


beers and entertainment

by princessoftheworlds



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: First Meetings, M/M, Mission Fic, SHIELD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:14:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,558
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24306502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/princessoftheworlds/pseuds/princessoftheworlds
Summary: At Simmons's prompting, Fitz "volunteers" to sit in a van during Daisy and Bobbi's mission. Enter Lance Hunter.
Relationships: Leo Fitz/Lance Hunter
Comments: 4
Kudos: 22





	beers and entertainment

**Author's Note:**

  * For [hellskitchensmurdock](https://archiveofourown.org/users/hellskitchensmurdock/gifts).



> Kudos to the lovely [jaune-chat](https://jaune-chat.tumblr.com/) for editing! Happy Birthday Ainsley! You asked for FitzHunter, and I provided!

With a grunt, Fitz heaves the large black case into the van. “ _ No, Fitz _ ,  _ we don’t know what we’ll need for this mission _ ,” he grumbles in a poor imitation of Simmons’s accent. “ _ Why don’t you bring everything? Actually, why don’t you come sit in the van for this one? You’re never there for missions. _ ” He returns to his normal Scottish accent: “There’s a reason I never come for missions, Jemma.” 

He much rather be in his workshop where everything is calm and under his supervision, tinkering with his newest project or discreetly drinking beers with Mack away from the rest of the team. 

There’s the sound of a gruff throat clearing behind him, and Fitz turns around awkwardly, mindful of all the wires around him, to find a tall, scruffy dark-haired man standing at the entrance of the van. He’s dressed in a black shirt and cargo pants with a bag of gear sitting by his combat-booted feet.

“That was a horrible accent,” the stranger says cheerfully. His own accent is British.

“ _ I know _ ,” Fitz replies, brow creased with bewilderment. “It was meant to be.”

The stranger’s grin widens. “I hope you’re not meant to be the one undercover.”

“No, that’ll be me,” says Daisy dryly as she clambers into the van from the front.

The stranger gives her an assessing glances and nods. “That makes more sense. You have the whole dark and mysterious vibe going for you.” He gestures towards Fitz. “Although you, sweetheart, you have the classic bone structure. You’d certainly look  _ good _ in the field.”

Fitz knows that he’s blushing brightly; Simmons has often teased him about how pale his skin is, but it’s not that her skin isn’t just as pale. The stranger, comparatively, is tanner, like he’s been spending time in places with more sun.

Before Fitz can retort, there’s a sudden “ _ Hunter _ ?” from behind the stranger. Bobbi appears, dressed to the nines in a stylish black gown and deadly-looking heels, her hair coiled up.

The stranger - apparently Hunter - turns towards Bobbi, and his eyes widen. “Bobs?”

Then, at the same time, they say, “ _ You’re with SHIELD _ ?”

“What do you mean,  _ You’re with SHIELD _ ?” Bobbi snaps. “Of course, I’m still with SHIELD.” A beat. “What are you doing here?”

“Coulson said that I should join you on the mission for an extra eye.” Hunter shrugs. “Or hand if you ever need it.”

“I’m sorry.” Daisy climbs over the seat and comes to stand besides Fitz. “Who are you?” She eyes Hunter warily.

Fitz was just wondering the same thing.

Hunter snaps into a perfect military rest, complete with salute, though he resumes grinning, an expression that’s beginning to irritate Fitz. “Lance Hunter, formerly lieutenant in the SAS, current mercenary-for-hire. I’m here on Coulson’s request to help you hunt down Nazis.”

“We were nearly married,” adds Bobbi, and Hunter scowls.

“ _ Oh _ .” Daisy’s expression clears up, and she laughs, glancing at Hunter. “You’re the ex Bobbi can never shut up about.”

Hunter’s scowl deepens.

Fitz hates this mission already.

* * *

“So what’s your story?” Hunter asks, sitting besides Fitz in the van. For a former soldier, he’s excessively fidgety; he already spun around in several circles in his wheeled chair, and now, he’s reaching for a drone that Fitz has set besides the keyboard to his monitor setup.

“Keep your hands to yourself,” Fitz snaps, slapping Hunter’s hands away. The other man leers and continues gazing speculatively at him. He sighs. “What do you mean?”

Bored, Hunter spins around again once before slumping back against his chair. “You’re clearly not in the van often, and you don’t look like you’re in the field often either; you’re tense. Yet you’re not bored like me, so you’re used to waiting.” He shoves his chair back and forth a few inches with restless twitches of his feet. “So what are you? Biologist? Technician?” 

“And you’re awfully observant, just like a soldier,” Fitz retorts. He drops his shoulders. “Engineer. I’m an engineer.”

“Why are you here?” It’s not asked unkindly.

“Simmons, my best friend, wanted me to get out of the lab more,” Fitz explains reluctantly as he studies the security feed of the casino on his monitors. He can see Bobbi at the poker table, intentionally losing spectacularly. Daisy, having changed into a shimmery jumpsuit, is conversing with someone at the bar, her gaze surveying the casino. Both of them are searching for Sunil Bakshi, a prominent member of HYDRA.

“That’s better than the pitch Bobbi gave me the first time she tried to get me to join SHIELD,” Hunter replies, snorting. He drops his voice into a passable American accent: “ _ Join SHIELD. Travel to exotic, distant lands. Meet unusual, exciting people - and kill them _ .”

Fitz can’t hold back his own snort of amusement. Hunter gives him a friendly smile, and Fitz feels an odd jolt run up his spine. He’s finding Hunter’s smile less irritating by the second. He asks Hunter curiously, “What’s the deal with you and Bobbi? You don’t seem to like each other very much, but you were nearly married?”   
  


Hunter rolls his eyes. “It’s the classic love story. Girl meets boy. Girl is a spy on a mission in Dubai. Boy is a mercenary hired for the same mission. How could we not fall in love?” His tone has become light-hearted but sarcastic. “I proposed to her with my nan’s ring. We nearly made it to the altar three times before we realized that it wasn’t going to work out. The next time we saw each other, she shot me in the leg to keep me from blowing her cover.” He smiles fondly. “Would you believe that it was my most amicable break-up? My first boyfriend burnt my house down.”

Bewildered, Fitz turns to gaze at him, taking his eyes off his monitors. “Why?”

He spreads his hands wide in a helpless gesture. “Because I broke up with him.” He reaches over to gently prod Fitz in the shoulder. “What about you? Worst break-up?”

Fitz scoffs. “That’s assuming that I’ve had more than one relationship.” He gives a tiny shrug. “No one’s really ever caught my eye.”

Almost four years ago, he and Simmons had tried dating for a month, mistaking their bickering for unresolved sexual tension. It wasn’t. It’d felt like kissing his sister, since Simmons was the closest he had to one. 

“Why not?” asks Hunter, expression slightly disappointed but still oddly cheery. “Handsome bloke like you, the boys and girls should be lining up around the block.” Before Fitz can reply, Hunter’s eyes widen. He’s gazing at the monitor over Fitz’s shoulder. “Bloody hell!”

Fitz turns to glance at the screen, and his own eyes widen. Sunil Bakshi is leading Bobbi out of the casino and to the elevator bank, a gun visibly pressed to her back. Bakshi’s eye is bruised and his face is scratched up, and Bobbi’s nose is bleeding as she bristles in Bakshi’s grasp. “Oh,  _ shit _ .” 

“I have to go help Bobs,” Hunter says, and he  _ leaps over  _ Fitz and tumbles out the van doors, sprinting towards the casino.

“Hunter, no!” Fitz calls. “You’ll blow her cover!” He glances back towards the monitor, hoping to find Daisy, but she’s disappeared completely from the casino floor. Sighing, he strips off his sweater, smooths down his button-down and slacks, and combs his hair sideways before following Hunter to the casino.

* * *

Inside the casino is the chaos of loud noises, people cheering, chimes of the gambling machines, and pop music. Fitz catches up to Hunter at the bar where he’s sipping at a martini.

“What happened?” Fitz hisses to him. “Why are you here? Where’s Bobbi?”

Hunter looks sheepish, an expression oddly becoming on him. “Bobbi can handle herself. I saw your Agent Johnson heading to the elevator banks. I think they’ll be fine.”

“Really?” Fitz raises a disbelieving eyebrow. 

He bites his lips, an action that draws Fitz’s attention. His lips look soft, almost pillowy. “I forgot my gun in the van,” admits Hunter.

“You’re a bloody idiot,” Fitz tells him. Then, for some reason he never figures out, he shuffles a bit closer and places a hand on Hunter’s shoulder, drawing a curious gaze from the other man. Then, he leans in and presses his lips to Hunter’s, and they are just as soft as they looked.

Hunter makes a small noise of confusion in the back of his throat, but then his lips part as he kisses Fitz back. Their scruff scratches together as Fitz tilts his head slightly. It’s a nice kiss, not that Fitz’s had many, but it’s nice.

Then Fitz steps back, his own lips feeling tingly, and Hunter grins at him.

“What was that for?”

Fitz shrugs. “Wanted to.” He points to the elevator bank where Daisy and Bobbi have reappeared. Daisy looks unruffled, but Bobbi’s dress is torn. She’s limping. Between them, they prop up an unconscious Bakshi. When Daisy's gaze surveys the casino, she spots them at the bar and scowls.

"Looks like the mission is over," Hunter says, having spotted Daisy and Bobbi too. The women disappear towards the casino's back entrance. "What do you say that we go get drinks after this?"

"I'll do you one better," Fitz tells him. "I'll bring the beers. You bring entertainment."

Hunter grins. "I think this is the beginning of something wonderful."

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr [here](http://princess-of-the-worlds.tumblr.com/) or on Twitter [here](https://twitter.com/rajkumarinik) to let me know how much you liked this fic or request a prompt. Also, please comment or drop a line below even if it's to telling me how you've been doing. I thrive on kudos and social interaction, especially in this day and age.


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